


Flowers Grow from Thunder

by Venturous



Category: Body of Lies (2008)
Genre: M/M, Middle East, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venturous/pseuds/Venturous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ferris decides to let Hani in on the El Saleem operation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers Grow from Thunder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neverminetohold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverminetohold/gifts).



> “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing  
> and rightdoing there is a field.  
> I'll meet you there."  
> ~Rumi

When Hani sent me home after the safe house debacle, I was mad as hell. I was afraid my work in Amman was finished, and thought Hoffman was crazy when he said that Hani liked me so much he’d have me back before long. And he enjoyed the hell out of the ‘my dear’ thing. Of course he never bothered to understand the language, it’s a common phrase among friends, it just translates that way.

Hoffman never got it. He never spent any time here, not really. The asshole never left the comfort of his suburban Virginia life or posh hotel. For an intelligence officer he was pretty stupid. In order to get this culture you have to live it.

Yeah, he still tries to get me to work for him. That ship sailed long ago. But I’ll give Ed credit for spotting something. I didn’t believe him. Not then.

In this business, the hardest thing is choosing your loyalties. For Hoffman, it was too easy. He’d do you right while you were useful. Then he’d cut you loose.

At least Hani is consistent.

Back in school this line from Monty Python’s Piranha Brothers bit used to crack us up every time. “Well, ‘e ‘ad to nail me ‘ead to the floor, dint ‘e? He was a cruel man, but fair.”  Well, we were stoned, that’s true enough. But it’s also true that once Hani believes in you, you can trust him.

But I had to learn that the hard way.

  
=====

 

“I wanted to see you to tell you, I was sorry how we left things. I was upset.”

Hani's personal driver Bassam met me at the airport. Then whisked me from the gate into a lounge area where he was waiting. As I settled into the leather chair, I was a little shocked, to tell you the truth. Hani looked at me, into me, with those intense eyes of his, and I was disarmed. He was good at that;  he’d get past your defenses before you knew what was happening. 

“I am happy you are back,” he said warmly. He put his hand on my knee.

Then his voice grew firmer. “Don’t worry, we’re watching out for you, but you cannot afford any more mistakes here in Jordan.

“This is a part of the world where friendship matters. It can save your life.”

The thing was, I still worked for Ed, and now we had this Al Saleem operation underway. At the time, I didn’t see any conflict, so I didn't fill him in. I was just doing my job. But I know now that I underestimated him, as I had from the beginning.

Later I realized what  a complete ass I had been. I knew I respected him. I ‘trusted’ him the way Americans understand the word. But I thought I could keep him in the dark. That is the biggest insult of all, to think so little of him. Because I already knew what I wanted. I just wasn’t ready to own it.

When did I first have a clue? Looking back, it was that time he made me witness the whipping of the prisoner. I tried to turn away and he insisted that I watch, which made me mighty uncomfortable. He put his hand  on my shoulder with a firmness that said to me STAY. And I was rooted - that was the strangest thing. My body just obeyed him.

He left that hand there, and it softened once he felt my surrender, my compliance. It became warm, penetrating, and erotic. That’s the thing, Hani has always been way ahead of me, my body was completely on board when my mind had no idea what was going on.

So there I was, back in Amman in the middle of the Al-Saleem thing, and distracted by Aisha, I was still without a clue. That day he called me in to tell me about Sadiki I came this close to bullshitting my way through it. But thank God I listened to my gut, because .... well, I  doubt I’d be here to tell you the story, for one. And Aisha, I never wanted any harm to come to her, and I think I would have lost her.

So I was about to be an American ass, when I saw something in Hani’s eyes, and I met his gaze and held it.  I must have learned something from the magnificent bastard, because I was beginning to speak his language.

It changed everything.

 

“A mountain keeps an echo deep inside. That's how I hold your voice.”

―[ Rumi](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/875661.Rumi)

 

=======

 

"You will get Sadiki killed, many others and probably yourself, Habibi." He looked at me gravely.

I babbled about what an amazing plan it was, how well it was already working. How brilliant  the Fig Orchard event was going to be, made to look convincingly like a horrible mass casualty. I was so full of myself.

Hani stood and paced slowly around his library as I continued my rant, feeling quite high, that now I had included my most powerful ally.

He stepped in from behind me, placed a firm hand over my mouth, another pressing me back into the chair, and whispered into my ear, so close I felt the heat of his warm breath in my ear.

"You are a proud man, Habibi. Be careful, for next you fall."

He moved around and crouched in front of me, and although he had released me, I was frozen, fascinated, and my heart was pounding. His hands were on my knees, his eyes boring into mine.

"You wish to be my partner? Is this truly what you wish? It comes with certain costs."

He rose, somehow having taken my hands and I stood with him, now uncomfortably close. I could smell the rich intoxicating scent of him; his cologne, subtle and elegant, plus his warm skin smell, I didn't realize until then that I already knew it well.

I was the proverbial deer in the headlights. Time got weird. I couldn't quite focus, his face was too close, and it seemed he was studying my nose, my lips, my eyes. His hands moved from my hands to travel up my arms. It was strange,  I cant explain, it was if his touch just appeared here, now here, now here. I was frozen, but had no desire to run.

His lips touched my nose. I closed my eyes, and he kissed my eyelids, light as a feather. A hand stroked the base of my neck, then rose to cradle my skull like a precious vessel. I felt as if I were being sculpted, created in that moment. He kissed my mouth.

I remember this like a dream, the hottest dream I've ever had.  Nowhere was there any protest, any question about my sexuality. None of that mattered in that moment.

He tasted like dates and spice and smoke, and I kissed back, and for a long moment we just learned each others' mouth, our velvet tongues dancing. Hani slid his free hand down my side and gripped my ass, pulling me close to him. I felt his hardening cock, and jumped a in little panic. Gasping, I tensed, and he engaged his other hand to pull my hips hard against his.

Oh.

His dark eyes glittered, and he smiled for me this exquisitely beautiful evil smile. He released his grip.

I sighed. “I need a drink, Hani Pasha.” I whispered.

"Of course, my dear." He swirled away, the most elegant mover of any man I have ever known, a shadow in the corner of the library, who returned with single malt in heavy crystal. He gestured to the leather arm chair and I sunk into it, grateful for the way it seemed to envelop me. I was speechless.

But my rabbity American brain wanted to make sense of this, and I kept trying to formulate a question. Hani sat across from me, near enough to brush our legs, or for him to lean over and touch my knees, but he sat back and watched me, amused. I have to say, as he was slightly mussed, he was ded-sexy. He never appeared with a single hair out of place. The dishevelment was incredibly alluring. When had I not noticed how attractive he was?

"You have questions. Of course, your culture is so rigid about these things, Habibi." 

I looked at him, wanting to speak, failing to find words. 

"I find your bravado, and intelligence, very attractive." He explained. "When you are not being a, how do you say, 'fly in the ointment.'" He smirked, and reached for a cigarette box. "Would you care for one? Do you mind if I smoke?"

I found his asking to be unaccountably sweet, and I shook my head. "Please, go ahead. But no thank you." At least I had found my voice. 

"Hani, I never... it never occurred to me... ah. That was, um. Wow."

He laughed. He LAUGHED! A rolling mirth, a musical masculine near-giggle, it shocked me, I considered feeling offended, then I burst into laughter with him, as it was an excellent tension reliever, and cackled until I cried, the situation seemed so preposterous, so bizarre. And it was so inevitable that I was in it for everything he had to give. 

"So, my dear. You have questions. Yes, I have taken male lovers, it's not unheard of in my culture, just unspoken. My wife, she needs not know, but assumes I have some need for other encounters. It is expected of a powerful man."

He looked so completely at ease, so elegant, so in control. I think I believed he could do anything. 

"The rest of the answers, I trust we can discover together, yes?"

I had no words. He rose, offering his hand, and I drained my glass and taking his hand, stood beside him. 

"Come with me, Habibi."

He led me to a suite in a far wing of his palatial home, and we sat by the fire as I went over the Al Saleem affair, as it had come to pass so far. He had many excellent ideas about how his resources could enhance the plan, and help to derive more intel from the outcome. Dinner was served to us, with delicious wine, giving us time to go over and rework the plan.

He had excellent people to protect Sadiki and a way to get tracking devices onto the terrorists when they interrogated the poor man. Afterwards, Hani's people could get Sadiki out of the country and into protected status. This was something that Hoffman refused to spend any time and money on, that bastard.  I was so grateful to Hani for this, because Sadiki was the crux of our operation, he made everything possible. Ed would have just thrown the man to the wolves, and that be that. 

That's just one of the ways I can try to explain how Hani's integrity made me trust him more than my own people. And once I trusted him like that, there was little distance from there to love. I know that sounds preposterous. Like I fell off my rocker, fell in lust and lost my boundaries. But it's not like that, it happened the other way. Hani showed me what loyalty really was, and that's why I could love him. 

After our fine supper and conversation, after the dishes were cleared away, the servers were gone and the lights were lowered. He led me to the inner bed chamber and it's lavish en suite. Someone had already drawn a bath and lit dozens of candles all around an enormous soaking tub. He doused the bright lights and the room was suddenly warm with flickering golden light. He handed me a plush white robe, then strolled to his dressing room.

I shucked my clothes and was slipping into the robe when he returned, a garnet silk robe loosely tied at his hips. He took my hand. He slipped the silk from his broad shoulders and I could have gasped, he was so beautiful. Long bronze limbs, defined by muscles and veins I wanted to trace. Just a smattering of black curls ornamenting his firm, broad chest. 

I was staring. He nodded to me and I took off my robe, feeling quite self conscious. I have so many scars. I am pasty white where I don't have a trucker's tan, and my body hair is uneven, thick and thatchy here, absent there, for no particular reason. although I am a reasonably fit man, next to him I felt short and fat. My sandy hair seemed thin and dull compared to his glossy black mane. I was feeling quite inadequate, and of course, he could tell. 

Come, Habibi, the water is lovely, and you will feel beautiful.

I blushed like a virgin. He patted my cheek, so sweetly. It was disorienting to be the pursued not the pursuer! But it was also intoxicating. I allowed myself to be led into the bath, stepping into the fragrant heat and gratefully submerging beneath the swirling foam. He slipped in beside me, sliding skin against skin, and stretched out, floating, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

I willed my self consciousness away, so incredible was the moment, for here before me was this elegant and powerful man, naked and vulnerable, inviting me into the center of his private pleasure. He floated above my lap, where my maleness began to show some interest, and I reached out and stroked him, following the line of his rib cage, hip bone and thigh.

He smiled without opening his eyes.

I grew bolder, reaching under his floating form, and stroked his back. He stretched, spread his legs further apart, and I watched fascinated as his cock rose from it's nest of black curls, mysterious and uncut, something I had never seen before. I was amazed by how much I wanted to touch him. But I was also timid with inexperience, and hesitant to overstep.

I reached around and drew him to me, the water making it easy for me to gather him into my arms, to enfold him, and sit him on my lap. He opened his eyes and smiled at me in a way that melted my soul, and I kissed him. I kissed HIM.

Have you ever had a moment, where you find yourself in a situation you could never have imagined? Out on a limb, on a sinking ship, in a fire fight when everything goes into slo-mo - moments like that? This was one. I should have been wondering and worrying about what it meant to kiss another man, to get this vulnerable with a dangerous international agent, I was out of my mind.

Yes, I was, out of my everyday mind, and into someplace much more real and intimate and amazing.

That night could not be exceeded for it's beauty, affection, discovery, tenderness or pleasure. I can't say that I wasn't already convinced he was a leader worth following, but after that night I belonged to him body and soul. I have no regrets.

=====

While our private world by night became extraordinary, we had plenty of work to do by day to run the last phases of the Al Saleem operation. We thought that all was in hand, that we could probably nail the terrorists when they grabbed Sadiki and then just mop things up. But of course it wasn't that simple. They caught wind of something, interrogating Sadiki. I think he talked about me.

It wasn't long before they grabbed Aisha and I, out walking in the city one night. Immediately they separated us.  I fought like a tiger to get back to her and incurred more than a few nasty blows.  I was blindfolded and thrown in a trunk, and we drove for hours, and during that time I cursed and prayed and cried for her, that they leave her in peace, she knew nothing. How could I have put her at such risk?  I was an idiot, a fool. I had let her down; worse, I had let Hani down. Eventually I fell into darkness, exhausted and parched with thirst.

When I awoke I was chained to a table posed in front of two cameras. El Saleem sat before me, looking patient and amused. They had doused me with a bucket to rouse me, and it wasn't clean water. I sputtered to consciousness, coughing.

"Ah, our sleeper awakens. Hello Mr. American."

What followed wasn't much fun.

I've seen our people interrogate high value prisoners, and I've never felt good about it. We were always taught we were the Good Guys, that we played more by the rule book than anyone else. I know this to be complete bullshit. When I first met Hani I blurted out a confession, that his security ops were known as a 'fingernail factory,' and yet I have never seen anything more brutal than an American black ops interrogation.

So I knew what I was in for. He started with my hands, crushing the fingers of my right hand one by one with the hammer. In between the fingers Al Saleem let his goons punch me out, and bashed up my face pretty good. lost plenty of teeth, getting my face banged on the table.

After the third finger, I was incoherent, really. I get it now, how prisoners under torture will tell you anything. I didn't give a shit, but I also wasn't really all there. I don't think I could have made a intelligible sentence. I know I wouldn't have given up anything important. Well, not true: I gave up on myself. I assumed it was over for me. There was nothing I could give to help Aisha. I would never betray Hani, and strangely, I knew nothing that could have compromised him, really.

So when the door flew open and he strode into that room, his guards' guns blazing, it was all a dream to me. I beleived I was already on my way to paradise.

====

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

―[ Rumi](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/875661.Rumi)

 

It's been five years now , and my bones have knit. I have new teeth to replace those I lost. I've happily been out of the employ of the US government for most of that time. And I can't imagine having chosen any other path. I think if I'd taken Ed's offer for the corner office at Langley, I'd be dead now; from booze, a car wreck, or just suicide. I know he had me surveilled for a while after I quit, and all I did was shop in the market, visit with Aisha and her nephews, and see Hani when time permitted.

It took a long time before I wanted to work again. And when I did, it was as an independent consultant. I only take the jobs I want, and they pay handsomely. So I have no trouble supporting my family. Yes,  I married Aisha, with her sister's, and Hani's, blessing. She is my dearest friend and mother of our beautiful children, Zara and Baraka now 2 and 4 years old. They are the light of my life.

My heart still belongs to Hani. When he carried me out of that stinking hovel, bleeding and having surrendered to death, he already owned my heart. It was he who convinced me that I needed a wife and family.

For weeks, I didn't want to see anyone, not even him, because my face was so disfigured, I felt so hideous. Aisha -- who had been rescued almost immediately after our abduction, thanks be to god -- tended me so lovingly. She never let on how terrible I looked, although I hated for her to see me like that. I had so much pain, and some internal injuries, so it was a very slow recovery.

Hani came to see me and I hid my face away. He took the pillow from me, gently but firm. He touched my face, that touch of the beloved, and I am ashamed to say that I cried, and tried to hide away. He brushed my tears softly and caressed my hair, which was about the only thing that didn't hurt.

He bade me come and stay with him as soon as I felt well enough. It was a while before I felt strong enough to go. When I did, I wondered why I waited so long.

The time spent in those rooms, where we had expressed our passion for each other, where he had convinced me of his desire, of his love, was so nourishing, I felt myself regaining strength by the hour. True, there were ways in which I was the reluctant virgin, once again. I feared that my scars would repulse him. And of course, he was the most tender and accepting lover, blessing each and every wound as he renewed his acquaintance with my body.

I knew, when I first arrived years ago in these desert lands, that this was where I belonged. But never could have imagined the great love who was my destiny, not in my wildest dreams.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
